


From the place it starts

by NaroMoreau



Series: Flame in the wind [4]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 07:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18278591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaroMoreau/pseuds/NaroMoreau
Summary: Sharky has been bouncing back and forth between saying his piece or keeping his mouth shut. Finally, he decides to go for it and propose to Dep.





	From the place it starts

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea in my mind and tried to make it from Sharky's pov that is fun as heck to write. Hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Also wrote this with this song in my mind: [Muskrat Love - America](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FgF3FIrJc6Q)

“M’kay.”

_ Ovened frozen pizza, uh, more like microwaved but still? Check.  _

_ Boxed wine and cups? Check. _

_ Donna in the boombox? Check. _

_ Note with reservation for the ink-place? _ \- He patted his ass -  _ Check. _

Sharky gave a quick glance around, moving the chairs a bit to the left, then a bit to the right and stared at the single bitterroot in the glass cup. Man, he almost broke his neck and lost one leg getting it from up north, hikin’ up ‘til his legs were sore. But it was worth it. After all it was her favourite. He still owed Nick big time for flyin’ him close and he intended to pay him, he wasn’t a cheap ass. 

He fumbled through the crammed interior of his trailer, taking shit aside, and tossing half-clean - half-swanked -  _ depending who you asked _ \- pieces of clothing over the counter, aiming to the empty laundry basket in the corner.  _ Score _ .

He ruffled his hair more than once, still adjusting to the feel of taking his cap off and tugged his best shirt into his pants, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, hoping everything wasn’t just wishful thinking from his part. That’d be just awful. And weird. Maybe he just should forget about the whole fucking thing and chuck the idea out the nearest window.  _ Oh man _ . Now he was feeling all dazed and fuzed but not in a cool way, more like those times he’d tried some of Hurk’s new blends and next day the hangover was worse than having to smell the armpits of a bunch of shit-eating peggies breakfast-lunch-dinner. 

Maybe-- Maybe he should pack his eagerness real tight. Like get really know each other, and for once instead of swallowing down the cake, he should chew it slowly, like really get the mouthfeel of it. But the shit was he didn’t wanna wait. Not when everything was crumbling down, falling apart like burning paper, ashes scattered in the wind. Like his folks who waited ages and then after he was born, things just went south, like to the motherfucking hell down route 66, beyond repair. 

_ Fuck no. _

‘Cause whenever she was close, damn, it was all firecrackers bursting, searing bliss flowing deep in his heart, heart thudding and palms sweating, feeling like he was scrabbling frantically at the best thing that had ever happened to him. To not let go. Somehow she’d pieced together all the small, variegated shreds in his life in a patchwork without loose strands, and he’d been hooked.

A loud clunk at the door made him flinch, almost toppling his old soccer trophy from the shelf, in his rush to open it. 

Dep leaned against the door, arms crossed over her chest, clad in her usual jeans and green flannel. “You missed me, hot stuff?” 

Sharky flushed up to his ears before that smile. That smile right there that always seemed to pull him up of any dark holes and made his existence already better by default. 

“Fuck yes, shorty,” he said ushering her in, slinging his arm around her trim waist, a little too conscious about the waves of panic pushing up his throat thinkin’ about what the next hour would hold for him.

“Care for a kiss?”

She rose on her tippy toes, and Sharky’s heart drummed, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. Man he was never gonna get used to how heavenly it felt. He kissed her, brushing those full, soft lips with his own, and his mind cruised back to the first months together trudging across the hills. Like back when he’d realized his crush and tried to stomp that annoying little voice telling him there was no way she could reciprocate him, ‘cause the evidence was just right there hitting him in the fucking face day in and day out. Painfully conscious of what a piece of shit he was, just a dumb dropout with an overfixation for blowing things up and talking his brain out. So any minute now she was gonna cut tail and leave him hanging, and he’d better fringe himself with vapid babbler and feigned apathy. 

But she didn’t, Jesus fucking Christ, she didn’t, instead sending his fears outta his mind down an over lubricated slip ‘n slide with just a couple of well-put sentences. 

“Hey,” Rook rasped, snagging her face off his and looking at him with a furrowed brow, “‘s something wrong? You look pale, man.”

His heart leapt to his throat, all of him absolutely wrapped in a sheet of mind-numbing nervousness. “Nah, just-uh, just been thinking ‘bout-- are you hungry? ‘Cuz there's ah, there's a lotta pizza to share, want ‘sum?,” he blurted out, relying on his mouth to slalom through the distinct set of doubts arising in Dep’s face. 

“Uh-sure, yeah, why not?” 

He sighed when she dropped the issue giving him some respite and made her way to the table. Her face lit up fixing her gaze on the lavender flower over the mantelpiece and the dimples at the sides of her face flared alive. 

“Wait- Is this for me?”

“Uh, yeah. Caught it just north,” he said shrugging as if his heart wasn’t whacking his chest at every pulse, “‘cuz y’know, thought uh, thought you liked that stuff.”

She flashed him a sheepish smile, seating on one of the folding chairs, fingers playing with the purple petals. “Thanks,” she said staring at him, “for everything.”

Fuck. It was hard to focus when those eyes looked at you, and sure he was they did something more than see. “Uh, sure babe, I got you,” he said, brain slogging away to find his balance again. 

“Here, shorty,” he cracked, extending the whole platter of smoking pizza and placing it at the center of the table, “grab a bite.”

“This is real good, man,” she mumbled through a mouthful of cheese, “but holy fuck, is hot.”

Sharky grinned, carrying wine and cups back to her, absentmindedly pressing play on the boombox. 

She quirked a brow, cheeks bunched up middle-chewing. “Eh, am I missing something here?”

“Uh, don’t think so,” he said, face flushed, studiously avoiding her eyes. 

“Shark, seriously, you ain’t that subtle, I mean I love you but yeah, stealth? That's not your strength, dude.”

“So a man can’t uh, can’t work up somethin’ for his girlfriend without said girlfriend suspecting foul play? That what you saying, babe?”

“Pretty much.”

Oh damn. She was onto him like a hawk over a wild hare. He swallowed, torn between dodging the assault or surrender, spilling ‘til the last bit of surreal longing outta his mouth. Fuck it. “Want a drink?”

_ Real smooth. _

“Sure,” she said, extending her empty cup, still squinting slightly and with the glimpse of a smile on her face. 

“Uh, well y’know, we’ve been uh, sticking together for a while now,” he said over the glug of wine as he poured, “and I was thinking, y’know, uh, what you plan to do once all this shit has cleared up?”

He stuffed a slice of pizza in his mouth to chew at his own wavering doubts with every hard sink of his teeth on the thin crust.

She cocked her head, apparently mulling his question. “I guess… I guess I’ll help Whitehorse to rebuild whatever is left to rebuild.”

“That’s cool, man.” He cleared his throat, ‘cause it was obvious the subtle approach was flyin’ way over her metaphorical stetson. “But I mean uh, where do you see, um, our awesome ass kickin’- name-takin’ partnership going after we, uh, wrap this shit up, if I may ask?” 

He burrowed his red-hot cheeks on the edge of his cup, trying to take a sip of wine but almost toppling the cup and he hoped she wasn’t attentively noting his antics. 

“I don’t know, Shark, I thought you were stickin’ around-” She drew to an abrupt stop, the glint of a panicked expression winking into existence around her eyes. “Are-are you,”  she cleared her throat and had a swig of her drink before keep going, “do you wanna end this- _ us?” _

_ What the fuck? _

“The fuck no!” The words hurtled out of his mouth in a violent rush, but the mere idea shook him to the core. “Where the fuck did you get that vibe from, shorty? This whole romantic as shit setup screams I wanna break up with you? Like seriously you need to reevaluate your life if you think it is ‘cause it ain’t-”

“Fine, fine!” She spread her hands trying to placate his outburst, “I don’t know, Shark, but you have the most weird fucking filter ever and also you’re so damn sweet I thought you were trying to dump me without hurting my feelings.”

“Fuckin’ Christ and why would I do that huh? Like you could stab me in the nuts and I ain’t considering it, like I’m an idiot but I haven't reached that peak dumbassery.”

She caved in a gale of laughter, until it ebbed away into an honest-to-god grin. “Sorry, Shark, I just, I dunno, I thought--I thought maybe you just got tired to put up with my bullshit and I mean it’s not your job to run around fixing this clusterfuck-”

“You kiddin’ me right? Fuck, babe this is why I keep tellin’ ya you really need to see those movies, like I can't stress this enough ‘cause ride or die is our motto and I ain’t messin’ with ya.”

He reached a calloused hand over the table, stilling his fingers over hers, hiding a wayward shiver riding up and down his spine. 

She was chewing her bottom lip, obviously waiting for him to keep going and he tried to shake off the thought he was grasping at delusions. 

“Okay, so, uh, here it goes.” He shuffled in his seat, trying to steady his shallow breath and the haze of his mind. “Since I met ya uh, things have really changed for me, in a good--no, in an awesome way and let’s face it babe, half the time I don't even know why you chose me, no, no, hear me out m’kay?”

He rose to his feet, pulling her with him, cupping her chin to tilt her head up. “Like you could’ve had Smirkin’ Fuckface Seed if you were into stickin’ your tongue in psycho,” he stopped to allow her to stifle a laugh, “but for some reason you’re here and I was thinkin’ uh, that maybe you weren’t totally opposed to uh, become my Mrs?”

A jumble of fears jostled in his mind when she didn’t answer him right away, already smacking himself hard when she pulled him down, swilling his breath. 

And she said yes among kisses, as he fancied their future with eyes closed, tears stinging behind his lashes. 

He groaned, remembering a fine detail left out and whispered. “Just forgot to tell ya, I mean I know I should get ya a ring but given our current situation that's a no-go babe.”

“Shark, I don't give a fuck about the ring,” she said trying to kiss him again. 

“Yeah, but I-I do and… here, look, what ya think?” He offered her the folded piece of paper right from his back pocket watching a helpless smile span to life on her face. 

“Tattoed rings?” She brought her hand up to her face, eyes glinting with delight. “Fuck yeah, babe-- god I love you, Sharky.”

“‘Aight, then, it's settled, and fuck shorty, y'know how much I love you.” He held her close, as they swirled and twirled, shimmying slowly at the rhythm of the swelling music, all fears stealing away and fading into the light of dusk. 

 


End file.
